The Walking Dead
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N7 training is always difficult, but Shepard's subconscious seems determined to make it a living hell. She won't let it. Pre-trilogy.
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Disclaimer: This author in no way profits from the writing of this story. All characters, dialogue, or other referenced material from the Mass Effect trilogy belongs to Bioware.
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The fields were burning.
The smell of smoke assaulted her as she ran. The only thought in her head as she emerged from the brush was to find home and family.
Caution was the last thing on her mind—until she saw them, the monsters who had caused all of this. She had read about batarians in school, and now she was seeing them with her own eyes. Seeing them gun down people she had known since birth, seeing them drag screaming children into cages, seeing them beat and burn those who tried to resist.
She crept the rest of the way to her house at the edge of town, knowing that if they heard her she would be taken like the rest, and a quick death would be the best she could hope for. But she couldn't let herself get caught—she had to find Kaylie and her parents. As she slipped in through the back door, she heard screaming. Her mother's voice.
Her heart pounded so loud that she was certain she would be found next. She took slow, careful steps towards the door, unsure of what she was going to do, certain that she had to do something. But when she was grabbed from behind, she knew it was all over.
Shepard woke in a cold sweat. She closed her eyes and took long, deep breaths until her heart stopped racing. Lifting her head to look around, she saw that everyone else was still sleeping. No sign of light on the horizon.
She let out a sigh and dropped back onto the rocky ground, her bed for the night, if you could call a couple hours of sleep a 'night'. N7 training was known to be brutal, and this was only the beginning.
Her subconscious seemed determined to make it even more difficult, dredging up these memories that she had tried so hard to leave behind. She closed her eyes again, hoping that her mind was done sabotaging her, at least for one night. She willed the memories to leave her in peace. She couldn't relive this. Not now.
She struggled in vain against the arms that held her. Just as she was about to scream, a hand slammed over her mouth. A human hand.
"Don't make a sound," hissed a voice in her ear. Panicked, she continued to struggle, unable to see the face of the one who held her captive. But her attempts were fruitless as the human overpowered her, dragging her away from danger, her family, and the only home she'd ever known.
She could still hear the screaming, even as they carried her aboard the ship.
The screams turned to the sound of a shrill whistle as she was roused from sleep. She sat up groggily and stretched, groaning at her aching limbs.
"You look like hell," came a voice from beside her. She turned to see one of her fellow recruits, Malcolm, grinning at her.
"Thanks," she said dryly. "You know, I could say the same for you, Mal," she retorted, though it really wasn't true. How he was still smiling after days of this was beyond her.
"I mean it," Mal said with a shrug. "You look worse than yesterday," he insisted.
She raised an eyebrow. "You sure know how to compliment a girl," she deadpanned.
But behind the smiles, she could detect a hint of worry in his brown eyes. "Didn't you get any sleep?" he asked.
She sighed and looked off, watching the others chatting and gathering their things. "I slept," she told him.
"Uh-huh," he responded, clearly not convinced.
She turned back to him. "It wasn't the best night's sleep ever, but I'm fine," she insisted, getting up to gather up what few things she had with her. She didn't want him to get distracted from their training on her account.
She could hear him getting up behind her. "You know," he began in a playful tone, "Next time you have trouble sleeping, remember my bedroll has room for two…" When she turned, his eyes were sparkling mischievously.
She shook her head, trying to hide the smile that was playing at her lips. "You are such a tease, Mal."
He grinned. "Still trying to make you blush."
She crossed her arms. "So you're just going to keep ramping it up until it works?" she asked.
"That's the plan," he said with a shrug and a smile, and she couldn't help smiling back. His lighthearted friendship had kept her going for days now, and the memories that had haunted her dreams were already drifting away on the early morning breeze.
She heard another shrill whistle. "Move out!" shouted the sergeant, and the two of them put on their packs. Another long day lay ahead of them, but Shepard was ready to face anything that might come.
The memories were just that—memories—and she wasn't going to let them stop her from greeting every day head on. She would meet each new challenge, and she would defeat it, because that's who she was.
You're a Shepard, her father had once said. You're strong.
And she was. She was Ava Shepard, and she would overcome it all.
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